A demon tempts Fenris. All he need do is give her his soul and she’ll grant his every desire…
She is a mass of dark wings and
darker shadows, appearing on his bed like a weightless ghost, her hands on
folded knees and a grin on her face. Raven-hair haloes out on his pillow, blue
eyes icy and bright surrounded by dark clouds. She is the coming storm, the thunder
in the distance, the electricity that sparks in the air. She waves a leg at him
as he scratches at the parchment, giving her only a cursory glance. “Don’t be
rude! Where’s my proper greeting?” She asks, faking a pout as she turns to sit
on the edge of his bed, feathers falling about her as she moves.
“You are making a mess,” he
replies gruffly, gesturing his pen at the feathers around her. She only laughs
and spreads her wings, six of them in all their darkened glory, shaking them so
more feathers fall. She goes to him, her feet never touching the floor, her
arms draped over his shoulders and her mouth beside his ear. She licks him from
lobe to tip, giving his pointed ear extra attention. He reddens at the feel of
her tongue while she only chuckles.
“I’ve brought you another,” she
says, reaching into her robes and drawing forth a musty book. The edge of the
pages are burnt and black, the cover oozing with dark slime. She drops it onto
his papers, destroying his written work, and opens the cover with a sharpened
fingernail. Each finger has a ring, sharp and golden, ornate jewelry with
imagery of hawks and wolves. Her fingers are as dark as her wings, delicate and
dangerous, and she taps at the index. “You see? Just like you wanted.” He scans
the page quickly, his eyes finding the words that mean the most to him –
silence, magic, tranquility.
“Thank you Asmodai,” he says
while she laughs again. She stands away from him, wandering about his meagre
room, her fingers touching the books on his shelf.
“That’s not my name!”
“It is as good as any other.”
“Give me your soul and I’ll tell
you what it really is,” she says, looking over her shoulder at him with a
smirk. This old game again. “Fenris,” she whines, her hands slapping down on
his desk, “give me your soul.” He leans back in the chair and smiles up at her,
shaking his head. “I can give you what you want. What you need. I can give you Danarius’s head on a platter.”
A bit of FENHAWKE for the cyberpunk Thedas AU… Fenris is a bit shy of Hawke’s online association with Mage rights activist Anders, and Hawke is a bit nervous that Fenris could disable his internal tech augmentations with a wave of his hand.
But they both end up agreeing that life is better at each other’s sides, for better or worse.